


I’ve learned it by habit, now I know how to wait

by jannika



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6239281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jannika/pseuds/jannika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She’d wanted to play a part. She didn't want to be in charge, she didn’t want to be proper. She wanted to be like a hotel below a bar, like layers of city below others, just for the night. They’d smiled at her like she’d issued a challenge when she mentioned it, offhand.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Post-ROTJ. Leia, Han, and Lando, a seedy bar, a cheap hotel room, and a plan for the night. Established three-person relationship. Shameless porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’ve learned it by habit, now I know how to wait

**Author's Note:**

> No really, this is just shameless porn. There is no plot. 
> 
> Established three-person relationship. You can interpret that however you want, I know how I meant it, but all that's important here is that they have all had sex together before many times and will continue to do so. Because seriously, there's not plot.
> 
> Copious use of the word scoundrel because they would, passing mentions of inappropriate use of the Force, Han Solo thinking he's a lot smoother than he is, and super enthusiastic consent from all involved.

Sometimes, they sit around and Leia reads them philosophy texts from the universities on Alderaan. 

Sometimes, she puts her feet up on the Falcon and shows them old Holos of her favorite theater pieces- the shows she sat in box seats for, a few that were performed just for her, birthday presents from acting companies. Sometimes, she tucks her feet under her legs, and Han brings food he’s made, and she laughs with them over tea and warm bread and the assortment of things from around the galaxy Han has taught himself to make over the years.

Sometimes they pile into a bed, and Leia sits on the end and asks them for a show of her own, because she likes to _watch_ , wants to see every inch of skin and every expression on their faces. Sometimes, she holds Han down with her thoughts, Force waves keeping him in place, as she whispers loudly to Lando _exactly_ what she’d like to see happen next, and-

Sometimes, Leia is still very much a princess, and even after everything, after all the battles, after all her truths discovered, she still holds herself with a certain air, still likes to have things her way.

(Han says, with a smirk, that she would have liked being in charge of things anyway, princess or not, and Lando laughs, and for _scoundrels_ they sure do a lot of cooking and cuddling and showering and bed-making and listening to every word she says.)

There’s an education that’s hard to shake- regal training and diplomacy and voices in her head that tell her things that are proper, things that are what respectable women of station, royalty most of all, do. Sometimes, she’s still holding herself to all of those things, too.

Tonight, tonight is not one of those times.

The plan had been to go to a bar Han and Lando used to spend time in years ago, and then stay the night in the hotel that is _below_ it, not above it. Leia knows, before they even get there, that it will be the sort of place she’s never been, the sort of thing she’s never really seen, even after so much time in the Rebellion. She’s seen ice planets and moons with treehouses, but she’s never seen hotel rooms that cost less than a dinner entree, never been to a bar that is the sort of place where deals for illegal things are made in whispers and the alcohol comes from across the galaxy, some of it strong enough to knock out the strongest human, or Wookie, or anyone else.

Leia had not wanted to be a princess tonight. She’d wanted to be a scoundrel with her scoundrels.

She’d wanted to play a part. She didn't want to be in charge, she didn’t want to be proper. She wanted to be like a hotel below a bar, like layers of city below others, just for the night. They’d smiled at her like she’d issued a challenge when she mentioned it, offhand.

(Out of breath, after another night she’d been very much not in charge, because, _oh_ , how she likes that sometimes, too. Bones liquid and throbbing under her skin, she’d suggested, said, she’d maybe really like- Lando’s hand tight in her hair, Han’s hand flat across her stomach. Han had grinned wide. _We’d have to get you a disguise for that,_ he’d said, fingers on her ribs, pressing in a little.)

She’s in a suit with buttons that make it tight, and her hair is down, no braids or loops, just down, and she’s done her makeup in a way that she hardly recognizes herself. The bar is dark and smoky, and the walls are lined with posters, some of them Holos, of Corellia, making it feel even more like _Han_. He used to love it here, he’d said, they had. The crowd is mostly human, but not entirely, and no one gives them a single glance as they walk in, as Han steers them to a table with one hand low on Leia’s back, fingers dipping under the waist of her pants a little, making her shiver. The table is in a corner, a booth, obscured and private even in the noise.

Lando brings them a round of drinks, and Leia grimaces around a strong ale that’s sour in her mouth. The booth is sticky. The air smells off in a way she can’t place. (It’s _spice,_ she tells herself. She does know, she’s not _that_ sheltered anymore. People in this bar are, without a care, swallowing things back, smoking them, breathing them in, slowing or speeding their brains.)

No one has looked at them yet. Leia loves it.

“You’re still too pretty for a place like this,” Lando says, in her ear, breath on her neck and hand on her thigh.

“She’s always too pretty,” Han murmurs in agreement. He’s still got a hand under the fabric of her suit. Little touches, casual, but also sort of _possessive_ in a way that’s getting to her already. She shakes her head, because has a very definite idea of what she wants here, and she knows, she _knows_ they’ll give it to her. (She thinks, often, that it’s a delicious balance they strike, all of them- knowing when to treat someone like they’re glass and precious, and knowing when what they need is to get absolutely _ruined._ )

“Mess me up, then,” she says, not even wincing around her gulp of ale, meeting both their eyes and nodding. Han and Lando exchange a look, and then Han slides a hand into her hair and tugs her close and kisses her hard.

“Under the table,” Han says in her ear, delivered somewhere in between a question and a direction, pulling back a little. Leia nods rapidly and does just that, sliding down onto her knees, already feeling like she’s being filthy and sort of heady and giddy with it. Han and Lando slide closer together above her, and then Han’s hand is on Lando’s zipper, opening it in a quick and practiced motion like he’s done this before, right here. He slides a hand back into Leia’s hair then, and tugs, pulling her over. She nods into his hand as he does.

(Leia has assured them both, repeatedly, that not only does she want this, but that if there was ever anything she didn’t want, she would literally make them stop by _thinking_ it. She cannot imagine ever needing to do that, but Han had looked like he felt a lot better after she said it.)

The hand he has in her hair is firm, and she slides her hands on Lando’s legs. The soft fabric of his pants is warm under her fingers. Above her, she can hear Han and Lando talking, holding what to anyone listening in would appear to be a casual conversation. Given how Lando already is- it’s clear this is very, _very_ far from casual for all three of them. Leia feels another little tug at her hair, and she smiles to herself even as she flushes at it, and leans in, running her tongue on the metal teeth of Lando’s zipper before licking up him and taking him into her mouth.

There’s a slight rise in pitch in his voice above the table, and a tug at her hair that feels approving at that, and she shudders a little. It’s all overwhelming, on her knees under a table in bar, giving one man a blowjob with another’s hand in her hair, voices of other customers all around them and the hard sticky tile of the floor pressing into her calves. She’s already so turned on she’s dizzy with it as she moves her mouth back and forth, running her tongue in lines and circles to go with the motion of her mouth. She takes as much of him as she can at once, with tugs on her hair and a rush when she can tell holding the conversation is a struggle for Lando as she goes deep.

Footsteps comes past, but no one stops, so Leia doesn’t either, going faster at hitches in Lando’s breath, stalling to what she knows is almost too slow at laughter from Han and jerks of Lando’s hips she knows are involuntary. The jerks stop, and then there is the sound of a cup being put down over her head on the table, and a hand, Lando’s, reaches down to touch her face, fingers warm on her cheek, like a warning that he’s-

And she’d have stayed right there and swallowed as best she was able even if the hand in her hair hadn’t tightened as Lando came, but the pressure of Han’s hand makes it better, somehow. She slides back, just a little, and she’s still breathing hard and swallowing when, swift and unexpected, Han’s free hand undoes his own zipper, and she’s being tugged by her hair over to him. She’s so surprised she gasps a little, but nods her head into his hand, and he tugs on her again and opens his legs enough for her to sort of fall between them at the motion.

She’s still not quite breathing right, and her mouth is sticky and getting sore, but she takes Han into her mouth without pausing, before she’s recovered at all.

She doesn’t stop to tease, doesn’t put a hand on him first, just leans in and takes him into her mouth, going for deep and long right away, on her first pass. He’s already so hard, and, she knows from experience, so turned on, so close before he’s even touched. She hears him make a gulping sort of sound into his ale, and now Lando is laughing, and the casual conversation resumes as she continues to suck and lick, to take him so far into her mouth her cheeks hit the fabric of his pants, then pulls back enough to tease just her tongue along him.

He slides his hand from her hair to her lips before long at all, and he runs his fingers around her mouth- her mouth that is still sticky from Lando- as he comes, and she holds as still as she can until he’s finished. He runs his hand down to her throat when she pulls off him, feeling her swallows, and then puts his hand back in her hair and pulls her up this time. She climbs back up, between them, feeling shaky.

Lando licks at her neck when she sits down, and Han kisses her, tongue running over her mouth a little. They each put a hand on her legs, up her thighs, and she squirms under it.

“Finish your drink, beautiful,” Han says in her ear as he runs a hand right over, _right over_ the seam in her pants. She thinks he can probably tell how much she’s already- that he can feel the heat, how embarrassingly wet she is, and how much she _wants_ , from just that little touch. She arches up into it and he slides his hand back to her leg, grinning at her. They have three almost-full drinks in front of them, the second round picked up at a point Leia really isn’t sure of, by Lando, she thinks. She swallows again, still feeling sore and sticky, and reaches out for her drink.

They make more casual small talk as they finish their drinks, Han and Lando still reaching into run hands over her, at her zipper, below it, just tiny little brushes that aren’t enough, and it’s all she can _do_ to bite back moans and gulps.

She’s not sure how she makes it through the drinks, honestly. Her brain feels like a pool, like an ocean, like everything is just these waves of _wanting_ and _needing_ and the way they’re teasing her is making it more intense, almost more than she can take. Every brush of fingers runs through all of her, and she’s still so overwhelmed from being on her knees and from it all that she’s on fire with it.

In the elevator down to their awful little hotel room, half an hour later, they pull her between them, flush in between their bodies, close enough that she can tell they’re both well on their way to ready to go again, and they slide their hands all over her. She shudders into it, shudders at their hands and their hips and the way _someone else_ could get onto this elevator at any time.

“Teases, both of you,” Leia says, “scoundrels.”

“That’s the idea,” Lando says, “for all three of us.” He’s got a hand under her top, running his hands over the small of her back and then her ribs. Han laughs and kisses her again, a little soft, even in the drowning haze of it all. Lando kisses her too, when Han pulls back, her body still so pressed in between theirs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” Han says, hands on both of their necks as they kiss.

Han tugs on her hand and pulls her into the hotel room, and the door is barely shut before they’re both on her again, kissing her over and over, unbuttoning all her buttons and sliding their hands over her skin as they throw articles of clothing onto the floor.

“Chair,” Lando says, his hands on her chest and his mouth by Han’s, kissing him quickly as Han nods. Leia’s mind swims, because as much as she’s being touched she’s still not being _touched_. She sits on a chair that’s seen better days, and Han gets on his knees in front her and grins.

He kisses her stomach and her chest before he says: “I think we owe you one or two, now.”

He pulls her legs open on the chair as he does, and she shudders. “So, right now,” he says, “I’m going to lick you, and Lando is going to kiss you, and then we’re both going to fuck you. On the desk, you think?” Han stops and looks at Lando again, and then at Leia, who nods rapidly and tries to will her hips to not rock out of the chair at his words. “Yeah, I think. Right on the desk. Maybe other places, too.”

“Going to make you even more of a mess,” Lando puts in, and then he’s on his knees, too, pulling her in, kissing her soundly. She gasps into his mouth when Han trails his fingers up her legs, running a thumb right over her.

“Lando,” Han says, touching light fingers on her and making Lando pull back for a second and look at him, inquiringly. Han moves his hand away from Leia, making her whine a little, and he smirks as he puts the hand and his very wet fingers around Lando’s mouth, then into it. “I think she likes being a scoundrel very much, think she liked being on her knees for us in public,” he says, sliding his fingers in and out of Lando’s mouth.

“I knew she would,” Lando says, smirking when Han pulls his hand away. Lando reaches his own hand down and runs his fingers across her, making her gasp again. (She thinks she’ll float away if they don’t really touch her soon.)

“Did you?” Han asks, grinning as Lando puts his fingers into Leia’s mouth, and she sucks at them greedily, wishing it anchored her more than it did, wishing Han would just get his mouth on her because she’s so-

“Yes,” she says, around Lando’s fingers, nodding again.

“Good,” Han says, and then he, finally, _finally_ , licks a line up the inside her thigh that ends between her legs, and she throws her back at the sensation before Lando catches her and starts kissing her again, hands all over her- her stomach, her ribs, her chest- as he does.

Han’s tongue is insistent on her, not teasing anymore, just rolls and flicks and that one _thing_ he does with pressure, and she’s squeezing the arms of the chair so hard she thinks they’ll break and whimpering into Lando’s mouth. Her blood is all bubbling, and she can feel the heat on her skin as she builds and builds, so good, so high, the warmth of his mouth and the swipes of his tongue, Lando’s hands on her still, and she goes so high- she was already so high- that she crashes, she comes in a hard roll, at the pressure of Han’s tongue making a circle and Lando’s fingers squeezing her chest.

She can’t hold back crying out. Han doesn’t stop, he doesn’t even _move_ , even when it’s too _much_ and she’s squirming and gasping again-

And then Han is standing and they’re picking her up and spreading her, over the desk.

They run their hands all over again, and they step out of their clothes, too. The feeling of the desk, hard against her back, sends her blood rushing, even before they start touching her again, in earnest.

“Doing good?” Han says in her ear, kissing the side of her face, a quick check-in.

“More than good,” Leia manages, making them both laugh again.

“She’s still too pretty,” Lando comments as he and Han switch places, Han walking down to stand between where her legs are dangling of the bed.

“I think she’d be even prettier if we tried something,” Han says. He runs his hand back up her legs, and then between them, sliding a finger into her and making her gasp.

“What’s that?” Lando asks, grinning.

“I was wondering- between the two of us scoundrels. How many fingers do you think we could get _in_ her?” Han asks, grinning wickedly and sliding another finger into her. Leia bucks her hips at that, at his hand and his words, and she swallows.

“Yes,” she says, not even bothering to nod, just turning her head toward Lando, who smiles at her before running his thumb over her lips. She opens her mouth and he slides his three middle fingers in, and she licks at them with her tongue, feeling desperate again. Han slides a third finger into her, moving his hand slowly, in and out, and then runs his other hand up her legs too, spreading them wider, teasing that hand below the one that is fucking her slowly-

She thinks she shouldn’t be this painfully turned on _again_ , but she _is_ , and when he speeds up the hand inside her and takes one slow finger of his other hand and-

She hears herself gasp and feels herself clench around his fingers. She feels like they could hold her up on it, like she’s floating somewhere in between Lando’s fingers and Han’s, the way they’re just _everywhere_ in all of her, in and out and she’s-

“Make sure Lando’s ready for you,” Han says, his voice low, hands and fingers in a pattern. Three faster now, one so slow, a twist of hand, a finger that lingers, a curve inside her. Leia gasps out and she does nod this time, and Lando takes his hand away and moves, so that she can take him in her mouth again. There’s a long moment- or three, or ten, she doesn’t know- when she has Lando in her mouth, in and out, letting him set a rhythm because can’t do much moving herself, and Han’s fingers in her, over and over. She thinks he slides in more, maybe- she’s losing the presence of mind to even tell, is that four making that curve? Is it two in that slow pull? Is it six all together making her cry out around Lando?

And then Lando gasps too and stops, pulling back, and Leia breathes for a minute, and Han stills.

“Ready, baby?” Han says. Leia’s not sure which one of them he’s asking, which makes it even _better_ when she hears both their voices, her own and Lando’s, say _yes_ , anyway.

Han pulls his hands away. She whimpers a little at the loss, until he puts his hands on her hips and tugs on her, gently.

“This way, I think,” Han says, motioning for her to roll her over on the desk. Leia says _yes_ again, and then rolls, and adjusts herself, leaning over. Lando’s hands skim her back as he moves around and steps between her legs. Han kneels beside her, kissing her, hard and fast, as Lando slides into her. She grips the edges of the desk as Lando’s hands trail over her back, her thighs, her hips, while he gets into a rhythm.

“Yes,” Leia says again, louder this time, into Han’s mouth. He pulls back and looks at her.

“Hi,” Han says, quietly, bringing a hand to her face, running a thumb over her cheek.

“Hi,” Leia gasps out, smiling back at him.

“Do you want us to keep fucking you?” he asks, moving his hand up and into her hair, a little tug that feels like a shudder.

“Please,” Leia says.

Han grins.

“Good,” he says, and then he stands up, his hips right by her head, and she licks her lips at how hard he is, even as she cries out as Lando picks up speed. Han leans over to kiss Lando, and Leia watches for a minute, because, _fuck_ , that’s always something she likes to see, before she leans her own head to lick at Han’s hips.

Han pulls back from Lando and pulls away a little.

“Not yet,” he says, smiling at her, and then he moves away altogether, and she doesn’t understand, through the way every roll of Lando’s hips is taking her higher, until she feels him under the desk.

She feels him start to lick her again, even as Lando is _still going_ , still inside her, fast and steady and making her legs shake. Han licks her again, and she can feel him run his tongue all over and sometimes up onto Lando too, making him falter in his speed every time-

And all she can do is hold on as she’s licked and fucked, bent over a desk in a shitty hotel room, and she rides the high of it and the warm waves and the impossible way everything feels red and electric and until she comes, again, yelling out in a way she rarely does, unable to keep the sound in. Lando keeps going the whole way through, making it more intense, until he comes himself a minute or so later, like her own orgasm had brought him over the edge. Han moves out from under them and grins.

“Come here,” he says, pulling Leia to her feet. She wobbles when she stands.

‘I can’t stand,” she says, laughing breathlessly, Han kisses her soundly and backs her into Lando, who is backed into the wall, strong and sturdy and warm.

“I wasn’t asking you to,” Han says. Then he reaches down and picks her up, and she gets it right away, wrapping legs around his waist and gasping he he holds her tight.

Lando reaches between her legs from behind her to touch her. She’s so tender she cries out again.

“We’ve got you, beautiful,” Lando says, then puts a hand around Han to guide him. He uses his other to shift Leia, and Han shifts his hips and Leia does too, Lando’s hand helping to get the angle exactly right. Then Han is inside her, slow thrusts up as she throws her head into his shoulder. Lando wraps an arm around her, too, to help keep her up.

Lando kisses her neck and her shoulders as Han rocks up into her. She grinds down some, rolling her hips and wanting every single thrust so badly, even though she thinks she should be too gone, too sore, that it should be too much.

Somehow, even though she doesn’t have the energy to really do much of her own moving? It’s not. It’s fucking incredible and now she really _is_ floating between them, supported by nothing but them.

Lando moves his hands to help roll her hips for her, up and down, and her eyes go blindingly white at the feeling when he does, at the angle and the depth that makes inside her, over and over again. A tumble of words falls from her mouth- their names, curses in multiple languages, strings of letters.

“No one has ever seen anything fucking prettier,” Han says, eyes on her, on how Lando is still kissing her neck, on the way Lando’s hands are moving her up and down, at the flush she knows is on her skin.

“Couldn’t have,” Lando agrees. He keeps one of his hands moving with her hips, Han’s hand coming to help too, their fingers interlocked. Then Lando reaches the other between them, to run his fingers in her circles over, and it’s so much, she feels so _much_ that she just-

And then Han bites her name, and kisses Lando again over her shoulder, and comes inside her in shudders and-

And when her orgasm rips through her before he’s even done, she thinks she’s falling, she’s falling but she _can’t_ , even if she wanted, because they’re both holding her still, warm and shaking and melted.

They carry her to the bed, and they all pile in, breathing heaving and so, so sticky, and Leia thinks this was a _very_ good idea. She thinks there are several things they did not get to do that would have very much fit, so she tells them that, head buried in Han’s chest, wrapped in Lando’s arms.

“Insatiable, like a good scoundrel should be,” Lando says, kissing her shoulder again.

“Anything you want, anytime,” Han says, and then shakes his head and laughs. “Okay, maybe not right this minute, but give me a few hours, and then? Anything.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Leia says with a yawn, snuggling down more.

Her eyes are heavy, and they both kiss her again, then each other, as everyone falls into an exhausted sleep.

Leia thinks this is something she already wants to repeat. She thinks it’s the opposite of all the education she has ever had. In so many ways, she thinks it’s exactly what she needs.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so far out of my normal comfort zone it is another galaxy, but here we are. I have never really been a smut writer, and yet, this happened.
> 
> If anyone wants to come cry with me about what a good ot3 this on [tumblr](http://mightfindmevaluable.tumblr.com/) I would love that!


End file.
